


Penultimate

by gutturalmess



Series: Deleted Scenes [1]
Category: CodotVerse, DC - Fandom, DCU
Genre: CV, CodotVerse - Freeform, Devil in Disguise (a Harley Quinn tag), F/M, No Strings Attached, Porn With Plot, Snake Oil (a Jonathan Crane tag)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-20 06:29:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14889393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gutturalmess/pseuds/gutturalmess
Summary: Before she was Harley Quinn, Dr. Harleen Quinzel was Jonathan Crane’s therapist.





	Penultimate

**Author's Note:**

> Specific characterisations of these characters belong to the CodotVerse.

“You’ve been doing very well on your medication,” Harleen said; Jon picked his nails.  
“I made it. Works.”  
“You’re so improved, there’s something I wanted to broach with you,” she said; he looked up with ill-disguised disinterest.  
“Whassat?”  
Harleen sat down on the edge of her desk, lowering her eyelids and pushing her legs apart. “Would you, uh…”  
Jon leaned forward in his chair, clasping his hands between his open knees; he gave her an appraising look.  
“What’s this?”  
“What does it look like, doctor?” She smiled, running her hands down her thighs.  
“Huh,” he huffed a laugh. “I see it, but believin’ it...”  
“I got you your glasses back,” she teased. “You don’t believe your eyes?”  
“Reading glasses.”  
“But not between the lines, I take it,” Harleen tilted her head and leaned back on her hands. “You don’t want to, then?”  
“Didn’t say that,” he shook his head. “Just never had you pegged as unethical. Seemed too prissy.”  
“Call it a neuropsychological test, if you like; see if you’re up to the task.”  
“That’s cute,” Jon took off his glasses and put them in his pocket. “But you didn’t have to dress it up - if you wanted to fuck, you only had to say so.”  
“And here I thought I wasn’t being subtle. It was as simple as that, huh?”  
“Simple as that,” he gave a slow shrug. “‘m not unreasonable.”  
“And they say you’re no fun,” Harleen chuckled; Jon unfolded himself out of the chair and stood between her legs, resting his hands on the desk and looming over her like a vulture.  
“Who says?”  
Catching her breath, Harleen lifted her chin; their noses touched.  
“Edward, for one,” she said; Jon’s expression didn’t change.  
“Had to go through him first - you try to fuck him?”  
“He’s too… Edward, for me,” she said. “Which is all he wants.”  
“Who else?”  
Harleen bit her lip. “Joker,” she murmured, flushing at the thought.  
“How’d you know? Haven’t earned your stripes.”  
“Working on it,” she said; Jon ran a finger down her cheek.  
“And you figure... next step on the ladder was fucking me?”  
“Wrong,” she chuckled. “Getting the chance to fuck you is something I want, not an advancement opportunity.”

Jon gripped her arms and moved his mouth to her neck.  
“How’s it go? You keep pretense... tell me we shouldn’t… beg me to stop?”  
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” She smirked, rolling back her shoulders to push out her chest.  
“Could’ve been fun.”  
“Not my style I’m afraid,” she said, tangling her hand in his hair and dragging him into a kiss; he inhaled and dug his fingers into her arms hard enough to bruise. “Instead, you’ll have to content yourself with tryin’ to fuck me senseless,” she murmured against his mouth. “If you can…” she teased. Jon bit down on her bottom lip, making her gasp when he pierced the skin; he sucked at the blood that rose to the top.  
“Sweet,” he said, kissing the spot. “Knew it would be.”  
“Hah,” Harleen chuckled and licked her lip. “So you thought of doin’ this?”  
“Course I did.”  
Jon pulled her hair free from its bun and dragged her head back with it, taking a moment to hold her still and whisper in her ear.  
“Be willin’ to bet your cunt tastes just as sweet.”  
Closing her eyes and humming with pleasure, Harleen reached a hand down to grip his dick, grinning when he hissed; he was fully hard, making her giggle.  
“Betcha I’m not the only one. Fuck, I could find that monster in the dark.”  
Jon declined to reply, instead looking at her as he ran his thumbs down her collarbone and toyed with her erect nipples; she gave him a lopsided grin.  
“Now you know that I want you to fuck me... so what the hell you waitin’ for?”  
“Regret,” Jon said, lip curling. 

He tore open her blouse, buttons flying off and rolling onto the floor; she laughed gleefully as he pushed her flat on the desk and licked the sweat from between her breasts, running right up to her ear.  
“That’s perfect,” she breathed. “Keep it up.”  
“Shut your damn mouth,” he whispered. Harleen hiked up her skirt, brought her ankles to his back, and dragged his crotch forward to meet hers.  
“Don’t hold back now,” she said; Jon leaned over her and rested his hands.  
“That doesn’t go well,” he murmured, unsmiling.  
“Try me,” she snarled back. “You think I didn’t see how big your dick is? I’m your goddamn therapist, I watched them wash you. I memorised every inch.”  
“If I had a fuckin’ nickel…” he shook his head.  
“And what, you’re fuckin’ me outta _love_? Don’t insult me,” she scoffed.  
“Works for me,” Jon said, undoing and dropping his pants and underwear, stiff cock springing loose; Harleen’s eyes widened as she licked her lips.  
“Even prettier when it’s hard. Wait…” she rooted around in her desk drawer, “here.”  
Holding up first two fingers, she offered him a condom.  
“An extra large,” she giggled. “My gift to you.”  
“Why’s that there?” Jon asked as he tore the package open.  
“Gotta be prepared,” Harleen shrugged; he snorted.  
“Hopeful.”  
“Hope had nothin’ to do with it,” she said. “One way or another, I was gonna fuck you. Only question was when.”  
She lifted her head, resting on her elbows; Jon leaned over her again.  
“Say that to all the boys, do you?” he asked; she made to bite his nose, stopping millimetres short.  
“Only the worst ones,” she whispered; she squirmed in place and looked down to where his dick lay between her legs; she grinned. Jon straightened up, grasped her bent knees, and looked down into her eyes.  
“Ready?”  
“Oh please. Like you give a shit,” she laughed.  
“You’re right,” he said. “I don’t.”  
“I’ve been ready since the first time you tried to kill me,” she teased, eyes twinkling. He reached down to pull her panties aside and raised his eyebrows instead, fingers finding nothing but bare, hot skin wet to the touch; she grinned.  
“You betcha,” she grinned. “Saw no need for ‘em; last time you choked me, I soaked ‘em right through.” Jon exhaled through his nose, eyes narrowing; she continued. “I got so close to comin’,” she bit her lip. “I had to finish myself off in the Ladies’ room so I could think straight.”  
Jon lined himself up. “Good.”

Without further preamble, he pushed her knees apart and yanked her towards him, shoving his cock inside almost to the base. Harleen cried out, head dropping back and chest curving up; Jon hissed out a laugh and steadied one hand on the desk.  
“Like a fuckin’ vise. Fuck,” he cursed, pushing forward for another half-inch; she moaned again, louder.  
“Careful,” he said.  
“What,” she laughed, tone childish. “You think Jerry’s gonna come runnin’ when he hears me scream and catch me bein’ fucked by big, bad, Dr. Crane?”  
“That’d kill him,” Jon said with a smirk; Harleen grinned.  
“What’s all this - urgh,” she made a choked sound, giggling. “But he won’t come lookin’. Man’s an idiot… he’ll be thinkin’ what’s one more scream in an asylum?” Harleen snapped, losing patience. “Now quit wastin’ time and get to fuckin’ me already.”  
Immediately, Jon stilled his hips; Harleen looked up at him and whined through a pout.  
“I don’t take orders. Not from you, and not now.”  
“Come on,” she taunted, twitching her hips back and forth. “You’re so dang stubborn that you’ll stop fuckin’ me just to prove a point?”  
Without reply, he stretched a hand to dig his nails into one breast and used the other to snap her garter belt against her leg; Harleen let her head drop back and groaned, then opened her eyes to look at him with a petulant look.  
“Sounds like you’re just cuttin’ off your balls to spite your dick,” she huffed, clenching her pelvic floor. Jon glared down at her.  
“Bitch,” he grunted, voice cracking; she smirked.  
“Asshole,” she replied, sucking on her first two fingers. “I’ll just keep goin’, shall I? Let me know when you feel like joinin’ in.”  
Harleen reached down, but Jon smacked her hand away.  
“No,” he growled, leaning down to catch her lips. Harleen let him kiss her a moment, then sharply bit his tongue, laughing and letting her head fall as he cursed her again.  
“Fuckin’, son of a bitch… goddammit…”  
“Oh, did that hurt? Poor baby,” she soothed. “I’ll kiss it better; c’mere.”  
He shook his head with a grunt.  
“Can’t blame a gal for tryin’,” she smirked. “So, you feel like puttin’ that gorgeous dick to good use yet, or are you now my glorified sex toy?”  
“Could shove my dick down your throat,” he snapped. “Shut you up.”  
Harleen canted her hips up, making her own shallow thrusts.  
“You’d have to pull outta me, first - reckon you can do that?”  
Jon merely glared at her; she gasped as her rhythm became addictive.  
“Mmm, turns out I don’t need your help, at all. Keep still, honey - I’ll fuck myself.”

“Oh yeah?” Jon placed one hand down on her stomach, pushing her back down on the desk.  
“Motherfucker,” she snarled, sensation lost. ”Tell you what,” she hissed. “When I do finally get close to Joker, I’ll be sure to tell him you couldn’t perform for me.”  
Jon’s eyes narrowed, his expression twisting.  
“Or I could tell Eddie about this,” she whispered. “He loves knowin’ everythin’; I’m sure he’d be _thrilled_ to hear about how you fuck. Or don’t, in this case. I can just hear him laughin’, right now…”  
Jon’s hand lashed out to grip her neck, hips forgetting any stubbornness and resuming his steady, bruising thrusts. Harleen bit down on a smile as he squeezed her throat.  
“There’s a good boy,” she gasped.  
“Shut up or I gag you,” he said. Harleen tried to nod, grinning; her voice came out a hoarse rasp.  
“You just keep fuckin’ me like that and I’ll do whatever you want, Jonny.”  
“Christ. Drivin’ me insane,” Jon hissed, leaning down to kiss her sternum.  
“There’s a short trip,” she moaned, writhing; he clamped a hand over her mouth.  
“That mouth’ll get you killed.”  
Harleen rolled her eyes, words muffled behind his hand; he removed it.  
“What?”  
“I saaaaaid, I don’t give a fuck,” she said. “Tell me - am I allowed to touch myself now?”  
“Like you needed my fuckin’ permission,” he snapped. Furious, he looked down at her. Tangles of blonde hair surrounded her face in a cloud, cheeks flushed. A trickle of blood ran from her lip to her chin, livid bruises already forming on her neck; her pink skirt was rucked up to the waist, white blouse in shreds, breasts heaving inside her red bra with each panting breath. Puckishly, she licked her lips as she held his gaze and fingered herself to orgasm; a high-pitched moan escaped her throat as her head dropped back, body bowing up with pleasure. The sight alone should have been enough to push him over the edge, but the feeling of her coming around his cock finished him off completely; he came with a pained grunt, half falling on top of her as he shuddered through his own orgasm.

There was a pause; then, Harleen ran her hands over her neck and laughed, out of breath.  
“Fuck,” she said; Jon hummed his assent against her skin. “Fuck,” she repeated. Before he could reply, there was a knocking at the door; they both turned to look.  
“Dr. Quinzel? Are you in?”  
Harleen raised her voice to answer.  
“I’m with a patient right now, Dr. Arkham!”  
Eyes amused and lips tilting up in a wicked grin, Jon slid down her body and crouched at the end of the desk. Looking down at him, Harleen bit her lip and nodded eagerly, then he pulled her legs to the edge of the desk until he was facing her still swollen, overly sensitive pussy; he chuckled. On the other side of the door, Dr. Arkham tried to turn the knob; it was locked.  
“Well - people were hearing noises, that’s all.”  
As he tossed the condom in the trash at his side, Jon’s tongue dragged up underneath Harleen’s clitoris; she let out a small yelp.  
“It’s an asylum, Dr. Arkham!”  
Jon swirled his tongue in lazy circles, watching her suffer; she clutched at her hair as Dr. Arkham chuckled on the other side of the door.  
“Right, right. Sometimes I forget. Oh, by the way - you have an appointment with Edward Nygma in ten minutes.”  
“I remembeeerrr!”  
“Before I forget, I wanted to talk to you about Jonathan Crane, when you get a moment. I feel you’re making real progress, there.”  
“Oh I think so, too!” She squealed, starting to lose control.  
“At any rate,” Arkham said, “we can talk later, Harleen.”  
“Yeeeees, sir!”  
Knees trembling under her scant possession as Dr. Arkham retreated down the hall, Harleen let out a wounded whine around her second orgasm, body twisting and fists pounding on the desk as she rode it out. Jon lapped up her release, grinning and hard again; he turned his head and sank his teeth into the tender flesh of her inner thigh. Harleen was so far gone, she hardly noticed.  
“Mm. Sweet thing,” he said, tonguing his own tooth marks.  
“Kiss me, you asshole,” she panted, lifting her head and beckoning to him with one hand. “I wanna taste me on ya.”  
Jon said took her hands and pulled her upright to perch on the edge of the desk, resting his hands beside her thighs to kiss her.

“So. Ten minutes,” she murmured, turning her head. “Ten minutes before Eddie rains on my parade.”  
“He does that,” Jon said. “How d’you feel about it?”  
“Are you…” she laughed, ghosting her lips over his, “tryin’ to psychoanalyse me?”  
“You need it,” he said. “Look at yourself.”  
“Aww, ya don’t like my new look? This debauchery ain’t doin’ it for ya?” She vamped, pouting; he had to smile.  
“Suits you,” he murmured. “What about your ten minutes?”  
“I reckon you got another one in ya,” she murmured, taking hold of his cock and pulling him closer.  
“Where?”  
Harleen’s gaze turned to her desk chair and back to him; he smirked.  
“If you can.”  
“Don’t goad me, honey,” she scolded, pushing him into the chair and grabbing another condom from her desk; she pulled herself up onto the chair, knees on either side of his legs. “I could just leave ya high and dry.”  
Jon raked a hand through her hair, deliberately scratching at her scalp; she closed her eyes and leaned into it, practically purring.  
“Doubt it,” he muttered; Harleen rolled the condom down his erect cock, giggling.  
“What’s funny?”  
“Ohh, this is gonna hurt,” she said. “That’s what’s funny.”  
“Problem?” His eyes flicked up to her face.  
“Nope,” she breathed. “In fact, you haven’t hurt me nearly enough. Now, Jonny Come Lately…” she smiled and raised an index finger to her lips, “let’s see if I scream.”  
With a full exhale, she perched above the head of his dick and starting to lower herself; she cried out at first breach but didn’t stop when she saw his eyes light up.  
“Still sore,” she said, biting her lip. “Fuck. Fuckin’… fuck.”  
Harleen whimpered all the way down, occasionally rearing up against the pain; she laughed when she received several kisses on the neck for her efforts as she reached the bottom.  
“Finally, a little passion,” she whispered; she lowered her eyelids and began to ride him. Jon dropped his head back in the chair and groaned; then his eyes snapped open to pull off the remains of her blouse, tossing it aside. With deft fingers, he unhooked her bra and threw that in the opposite direction. Exhaling his approval, Jon placed one hand on her back and another between her breasts, lowering his head to suck on her nipples, biting on one before turning to the other. Harleen’s breath hitched in her throat, speeding up her pace; he moaned and gripped her hair.  
“If only you’d talk more,” she whispered.  
“The fuck’s there to say?” He grunted; she shrugged with a smile.  
“Anythin’,” she smiled, grinding down. “You’re focused; I get that. But sex can be fun, too.”  
“More fun? More violent?” Jon dragged his nails down her back, making her recoil with a gasp. “You better be here for me, or I hit you across this room.”  
“Mm, and then I’d hit ya right back… then who knows what could happen?” Harleen beamed, eyes sparkling; he glared and she sighed. “Fine. Yeah, I’m here to fuck ya,” she dragged her hips, “but your proposition would almost make it worth the lie.”  
“Like to play chicken with the train, don’tcha?” He said, groaning and biting her shoulder as she rode harder.  
“Just like you do,” she hissed. “And now that I know what makes you tick…”  
“Wha’?”  
“Here comes your train,” she leaned forward and kissed him.

“Ohh,” she whimpered against his lips. “Jonny, it hurts. Hurts so, so bad,” she clung to his shoulders, feeding injured noises into his mouth. Involuntarily, his hips jerked and his breath caught; feeling him watch, she dropped her head back and upped the intensity of her perceived pain, forcing a tear to run from each eye. With a surprised gasp, his head knocked against the back of the chair as he came again, hips twitching without his usual metronomic rhythm. Harleen grinned as he panted and stared at the ceiling.  
“That… wasn’t supposed to happen yet,” he mumbled, confused; she ran one finger down his cheek, tracing over his scar.  
“Gotcha,” she murmured.  
“What?” He breathed.  
“Ya number. So close to perfect, too.”  
“The fuck does that me-” without warning, she pulled off him. “Argh! Bitch.”  
“Ya know, I find you never truly know someone,” she smoothed down her skirt and her voice, then straightened her stockings, “until you fuck them.”  
Jon stared at her as she found her bra and put it back on; she checked her watch.  
“Two minutes; there’ll be no delay. Edward does love to be early, to see if he can catch someone in a compromising position.”  
Harleen put her shoes back on and grabbed her lab coat; she buttoned it up to the throat to cover the absence of blouse, then straightened her desk and threw open all the windows. As he recovered, Jon watched her with disbelief.  
“Edward has an exceptional sense of smell,” she explained.  
“I know,” he said. “Doesn’t seem much point in hidin’ it.”  
“Well, you can’t blame a girl for trying,” she said. “You should get your clothes back on - unless you want him to see you as you are.”  
Jon rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Don’t need that.”  
As he hauled himself up to redress, she walked into her small bathroom to wash and rinse herself as best she could manage, then wiped the blood off her face and pulled her hair into a bun. Turning to walk out of the bathroom, she bumped into Jon who had suddenly appeared in the doorway.  
“I won’t lie to you; I’ve screwed a lot of women.”  
“Yeah,” she blinked, bemused. “So?”  
“You…“ he waved a finger, “you’re somethin’ else.”  
“How flattering,” she drawled, raising an eyebrow. “What of it?”  
“Underestimated you,” she made to step beside him, but Jon moved faster and pressed her up against the door frame. Harleen tilted her head with an amused smile.  
“What’s on your mind, Dr. Crane?”  
“True, what you said. You never know someone until you fuck them.”  
“Your point?”  
“Reckon I just met the real you,” he said; she laughed.  
“What…” he grabbed her shoulders, “the fuck is so funny?”  
“Take those hands off me, Dr. Crane,” she said, voice calm as she levelled a stare into his eyes. “All I need to do is show Jerry my neck bruises, and I’ll see you tossed back into Level 4 to rot.”  
“Would you now?” Jon snarled, pushing her into the door; her eyes glittered with malice.  
“Trying to kill poor little Dr. Quinzel again when she only wants to help you. Then there’s no glasses, no Ichabod, no books - and this time, no one to save you.”  
“Low,” Jon shook his head, unsmiling. “Dirty trick, and you know it.”  
“Who the fuck would believe you, anyway?”  
“Bet Edward saw through you.” Harleen didn’t reply; he snickered. “That sense of smell is good for sniffin’ out a rat. One of us, huh?”  
“Get out of my way,” she managed.  
“Way to what?” Jon bracketed her with his hands. “To the door, or to the Joker?”  
Harleen glared at him. “What are you saying?”  
“My meds help me see things as they are,” Jon said, putting his glasses back on. “But y’know, you might be just what he needs…”  
As she opened her mouth to speak, a shadow appeared over the frosted glass of the office door, accompanied by a sharp knock.  
“Knock knock!” Edward called cheerfully. “Your favourite is here!”  
“Insufferable jackass,” Jon muttered. “He’ll pick that lock if you don’t open it soon enough.”  
“An easily bored genius and chronic narcissist; I believe you’re familiar with him,” she said, ignoring Jon. “Time you were leaving, I’d say.”  
Jon lifted her chin with his fingers. “You used me,” he murmured; Harleen stared into his chilly eyes. “I don’t get why, but you did.”  
“I wanted to fuck you, I told you.”  
“Maybe you did,” Jon tilted his head. “You’re not lyin’. There’s somethin’ else goin’ on here.”  
Harleen paused; her eyes widened under his scrutiny.  
“Maybe you wanted to get under my skin,” he said.  
“It can’t be simple?”  
“Isn’t though.”  
Harleen bit her lip and looked away. “I -”  
“Whatever it is - I don’t care,” he said, cutting her off; he held up an index finger. “But I got one piece of advice before you meet the Bozo: drop the prissy mask and play with him as you are.” Jon leaned in and kissed under her ear; Harleen swallowed, lost for words.

“‘Til next time, Dr. Quinzel,” he said, opening the door. Edward looked up from his crouched position, blinking in surprise and putting the pin back in his pocket as he stood up.  
“Oh,” he paused, wrinkling his brow. “It’s you. I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”  
“Not a thing,” Jon said, brushing past him out into the hall without looking back.  
“Hello to you too,” he called after him, then turned to Harleen and smiled his winning smile. “Dr. Quinzel! How delightful to see you again.”  
“Thank you, Eddie,” she gestured inside. “Do come in.”  
“Don’t mind if I do.”  
As he stepped inside her office, Edward’s nose prickled; he sniffed and looked around in puzzlement, frowning. His sweeping gaze found Harleen, who blinked innocently.  
“Something wrong?”  
“First thing,” he pointed around the room. “Why’re all the windows open?’  
“Well,” she turned to look, “it was getting a bit stuffy in here.”  
“Really?” Edward looked dubious; Harleen turned back, smiling brightly.  
“Yes.”  
“Second thing. Why are you wearing your lab coat like that?”  
“Like what?”  
“Good grief,” Edward rolled his eyes. “I’m not in the mood to play; it looks like you’re not wearing anything under your coat.”  
“I spilled coffee all over my blouse,” she smiled, kicking its discarded remains under her desk. “Haven’t had the chance to get another. Any other questions?”  
“I -” he shook his head, tossing a thought aside. “No. No, not that...” then he noticed her neck; he tutted. “Scarecrow, huh?”  
Harleen touched her fingers to her throat, having forgotten the marks completely.  
“Yes. Yes, Scarecrow. I, uh - pushed too hard.”  
“Daffy old fool. Still can’t control himself, huh?”  
Edward took a seat with easy grace and sat expectantly, still watching her.  
“He’s…” she licked her lips, “... getting better.”  
“I bet,” Edward said wryly. “I see you’re working wonders, my dear; everyone says so. You’ll be batted about between Joker’s big purple paws before you know it... he’s been grinning like the Cheshire Cat at the prospect of fresh meat.”  
Harleen turned and stared out the window.  
“Are you alright?” Edward asked, like he was staring through her head.  
“Just a little shaken up, that’s all,” she smiled and made her voice tremble. “Scarecrow, you know. But enough of that - tell me all about you.”  
“I thought you’d never ask.”  
Picking up her pad, Harleen sat down and corralled her thoughts into order. She stared at her hand, which was shaking.  
_Damn him._


End file.
